


I've got you

by doctor243



Series: Infinity War Drabbles [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Infinty War - Freeform, Iron Dad, Peter is Tony's son, Reunion, fight me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 14:44:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15560046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor243/pseuds/doctor243
Summary: 4 Things Peter notices when he wakes up after the War.





	I've got you

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of a sequal to "My Silver Tongue", but you don't have to have read it to understand.

The first thing Peter noticed was the sinking lack of oxygen in his lungs. He felt like he’d inhaled a dessert’s worth of sand as he writhed and clawed at his throat, desperately willing his lungs to move, to push through the excruciating pain, to _breathe_. Why would breathing be this hard? It should be exhilarating, and refreshing, and the oxygen rush should be making him high as a kite right now, but no, he felt fire ants in his chest and lead in his throat.

The second thing Peter noticed was the sound. The sound of wind around him, the crunch of boots against gravel, the _weeping._ The mournful terrible weeping that surrounded him. _Shut up_! He wanted to yell. _Can’t you see that I can’t even breath??_ But it wasn’t just one voice sobbing away; there were a mixture of so many different voices, sounds, and grunts. Muffled words and screams. Screams? And then it dawned upon Peter that the screaming belonged to him. As soon as he realised that, he stopped, chest heaving, and cool, _cool_ , glorious air filled his lungs and _he could breathe._

The third thing Peter noticed was that he wasn’t lying down. He was sitting upright, but was unable to move, clamped tight against a suit of a titanium-gold alloy. Red skies, broken spaceships, burnt ground and _people_. Beautiful, gorgeous, _live_ people. Hugging, kissing, crying together and being _alive._ He tried to turn his head but felt another man’s head blocking him. His senses slowly started to return to him, and the haziness dissipated. His lungs might still have been burning from the lack of oxygen, but he could recognise the scent of the man attached to him _miles_ away. Coffee. Motor oil. Blood. Sweat. Tears.

“…mister Stark?” he croaked. Instantly the arm around him tightened and muffled sobs filled his ears. ( _I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’ve got you._ )

“Wha-what happened?” he pat Tony gently, but the man refused to relent.

“We won,” the strangled whisper replied came, so small, so fragile, so _broken._ ( _I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’ve got you._ )

The fourth thing that Peter noticed was that Tony was only hugging him with one arm. Struggling, (because getting hugged tightly when you’re sitting on your ass is actually _quite_ uncomfortable) he took a peek down.

“Mr Stark!” He practically yelled. “Your arm!”

“It’s ok,” Tony hushed, seemingly focused on higher priorities. ( _I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’ve got you._ )

“What?! No! How is that ok?!” He screeched in reply. Peter pulled away to stare at his mentor, holding his shoulders and looking him in the eyes. But when he saw tears and the sheer unfiltered _pain_ in the eyes of the man he called his hero, his mentor, his heart broke and he began sobbing and pulled Tony into a hug again. Tony, the man who fished him out of a hole in Queens. Tony, the billionaire who gave him a multi-million-dollar suit and a future, with no expectations of anything in return. Tony, the human genius who had single-handedly fought off two super-soldiers with a malfunctioning suit, and the only one to make Thanos bleed before the snap. The warrior who had the ferocity of a thousand burning suns behind his eyes, yet had the kindness to be a father to a single boy who never asked for it, but desperately needed it. _I’m sorry_ , was what Peter really wanted to say. _I’m sorry that I couldn’t help you. I’m sorry that you lost your left arm. I’m sorry that you’ve spent so much time and money on me, but I couldn’t prevent you from getting hurt._ But Peter had learned many things from Tony, and yet his Silver Tonguetm was not one of them. So all he could whimper out, shaking and hiccupping against the arc reactor, was, “How is it okay?”

The corners of Tony’s lips twitched upwards and he stared up at the bright red sky through unashamed tears. “Well,” he whispered, voice quivering, but eyes shining. “I’ve got you.” ( _I love you_ )

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't actually consider writing a reunion fic, but after @addictwithapen_72 suggested it I started thinking real hard, so here's the outcome! Also, there was this post on Tumblr that showed how Tony's left arm being hurt in every Marvel movie was a subtle theme, and it occurred to me that Tony's arm got more hurt the more he tried to redeem himself, so I thought I would make it come full cycle. Follow me on tumblr @doctor243 and send me prompts!!!


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